


Weekends are for Lovers

by hookedontaronfics



Category: British Actor RPF, Taron Egerton - Fandom
Genre: Adventure, Camping, F/M, Feelings, Feelings Realization, Fluff and Smut, Smut, Sweet/Hot, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Weekend trip, campervan, sweet couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:06:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22412953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hookedontaronfics/pseuds/hookedontaronfics
Summary: So I kind of took this idea and ran off with it. Not really sure I’m capable of writing anything short these days, but I hope you all enjoy this very sweet and slightly sexy one shot. Enjoy! xPrompt: Something with Taron, Y/N, and his beloved camper van?
Relationships: Taron Egerton/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	Weekends are for Lovers

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Some smut

You had just tucked into your kale and balsamic salad when your phone rang. You smiled to yourself as the screen lit up with a picture of your smiling boyfriend. You hit the button to pick up the call.

“Hi babe!” you said, happy to hear from him and grinning over his uncanny ability to always call just as you were taking your lunch break. It seemed like some kind of cosmic connection, or at least that’s what you kept telling yourself.

“Heeeey, how’s my favorite lady?” he asked.

“First of all, your favorite lady is your mam, and we both know that,” you said, making him chuckle. “And otherwise, I’m good. Bloody ready for the weekend, I can tell you that. Today at work is draaaa-gging,” you said, also dragging the word out.

“Oh love, sorry to hear that. But you’ll love to hear what plans I’ve cooked up for the weekend,” he said excitedly.

“Plans?” you asked, raising an eyebrow even though he couldn’t see that.

“Yeah. I’ve loaded up the campervan and she’s all ready to go. Just you and me, a case of beer, and being surrounded by nature and the water. What do you say to that?” he said, sounding obviously proud of himself.

“Oh Taron, honey, that sounds amazing. But you forgot about my wellness retreat this weekend,” you replied.

“I forgot about your wellness retreat. Shit,” he said. “I know you told me about that.”

“About ten times,” you sighed.

“Ahhh, well, I suppose we’ll have to go another time,” he said, sounding so crestfallen you wished you could reach through the phone and give him a hug. The gesture had been incredibly sweet, and you couldn’t lie, there was a part of you that just didn’t care to balance your energy vortex or whatever it was your friends called it after convincing you it was going to be the  _ best _ time.

“You know what? I can skip the retreat. Let’s just go,” you said.

“No, no, nooo, babe. You can’t cancel on your friends,” he replied, and you loved him for the fact that he always supported your time spent with the girls you’d known since school days.

“Look, I think I can pass on the kombucha bar and inner goddess workshop and spiritual cleanse. I just want time with you. That sounds like the best retreat by far.”

“You sure?” he asked, a bit dubiously. “I mean, you’ve already paid for it.”

“Won’t be the first time I’ve wasted money, T. But I think the retreat is just going to stress me out more than anything. If I really want to find some wellness, I think it’s gonna be in the back of your campervan,” you said with a smirk.

“Oh-ho-hoo, I can promise you that,” he replied, and you could practically hear the smirk in his voice too. Less-than-subtle flirting was apparently your specialty as a couple.

“Alright, so… I’ll get myself home as soon as my shift ends,” you smiled to yourself, suddenly really looking forward to the weekend. You both managed to hang up the call and you quickly finished off your salad before returning to work, staying as busy as possible but also having thoughts that probably weren’t exactly appropriate for work. But if anyone noticed you blushing, they didn’t say a word.

You nearly leaped from your desk as soon as the clock hit 3 p.m. and rushed out to your car. You dialed Steph, easily your most sympathetic friend, to tell her you were canceling on the retreat. Instead of cooking up some kind of white lie, you told her the truth, that Taron had made weekend plans for you and you got so few of those together that you didn’t want to pass it up.

“So I can count on you to smooth things over with everyone?” you asked nervously.

“Of course. I mean, I can tell you you’re missing out and you’d better promise to dish about the weekend at yoga class next week, but everyone will understand. I mean, if I had the chance to sleep with Taron all weekend long I wouldn’t pass it up either,” she teased you.

“Shit, Steph,” you laughed, feeling my cheeks redden, but grateful for her understanding all the same.

Sure enough, the campervan was waiting in the drive when you got home. You parked your car behind Taron’s, feeling slightly giddy as you rushed inside. “Babe, where are you?” you asked as you wandered down the hall.

“Back here!” he called, his voice coming from the bedroom. You dropped your purse and coat on the couch as you passed by it and found Taron in the closet, rifling through some things, both of your open duffle bags resting on the bed. His was nearly full; yours still completely empty.

“Hey,” you smiled, leaning against the door frame for a moment.

“Hey you,” he smiled back, wrapping his hands around your waist and leaving a playful kiss on your lips. “Excited?” he asked.

“Of course!” you said with a laugh. “It’s going to be brillo.”

“Soooo, get yourself packed up and we can hit the road as soon as you’re ready,” he smiled, tossing one last thing in his duffle, zipping it up, and hefting it over his shoulder.

“Sounds good,” you said, accepting one more kiss before he left you to it. You were so distracted by the possibility of the weekend ahead of you that you didn’t exactly pay a lot of attention to what you were tossing in your duffle. Of course you made sure to grab some cold-weather clothes, as it was still early spring and England weather liked to be tempestuous. But you imagined neither of you would be spending much time outside of the campervan, or in clothes for that matter, so you didn’t put much thought into it.

Taron did some final checks to make absolutely sure everything was ready, and soon you were both rolling down the road, the windows down despite the chilly air, the radio turned way, way up, and both of you feeling about as free and relaxed as you ever got to feel. 

While he genuinely enjoyed meeting fans and doing the promotional bits like interviews and appearances, you also knew the grind could get to him. He absolutely cherished his campervan and his ability to get away, to just be another person at a campsite, kicking back with a good beer and his girl. There was something to be said for anonymity. The rest of the world always wanted to be known; you personally wanted to scream back at just how much fame stole from the people who, by talent or luck or something else, had managed to fall into its abyss.

“You’re thinking something,” his voice broke into your thoughts.

“No, nothing important,” you shook your head.

“Yeah, but I know you, and I know that face you make when it’s not nothing. Do you want to talk about it? Get it off your chest now so we don’t have to think about much else later?”

You sighed slightly and turned the dial down on the radio. “Just thinking how nice it is that you can still get away, that’s all.”

“Disappearing isn’t all that hard. It’s wanting to give up the glitz and glamour and attention that is. It’s an addictive lifestyle,” he admitted, “having everyone at your beck and call.”

“But you’re not about that, are you?” you smiled over at him.

“It has its perks, but it’s also exhausting. And when I’m off doing those things, I’m not spending time with you, and I miss you terribly.”

“You’re too sweet babe,” you said, running your fingers through the short hairs at the nape of his neck.

You both settled into a comfortable silence again, the hours and hills of the countryside rolling past you gently. After just about four hours, you finally were on the narrow access road to Westacott Farm Camping on the Devon coast. It was a new place neither of you had camped at before, but the reviews had been good and the views of the bay unparalleled.

You pulled in to the campsite and Taron carefully navigated the vehicle around to the Lundy field, pointing out a sign that had your names carefully chalked on it. There was only one other name on the board at the moment, so you guessed it was going to be an incredibly quiet hideaway this time. “Cute!” you remarked as he backed the campervan into the spacious pitch and, once satisfied, turned the ignition off.

“We’re here!” he announced with aplomb, making you giggle too. You both crawled out, grateful for a chance to stretch your legs and to breathe in the sweet country air. A gaggle of ducks greeted you as you walked to the farmhouse to get checked in, squabbling loudly but harmlessly at you. A few sheep peered at you curiously from behind a fence, chewing methodically.

The owner you met was incredibly friendly and laid-back, making sure you had everything you needed and walking you around the toilet and shower facilities. She even offered a fire pitch rental, which you both happily agreed to, as the nights were still nippy. She answered your curious questions about the small working farm, and even allowed you to meet a few of the animals, your enthusiasm for this part making Taron grin to himself.

Eventually, though, you two were left to your own devices, and you both decided a trip down to the beach was in short order, no matter how chilly it was. You both pulled on windbreakers over your jumpers and, hand-in-hand, made the hike down to the pebbly beach. Your shoes crunched a bit as you walked, taking in the stunning view. You didn’t walk too far, eventually getting chased back to the campervan by the cold.

“I can’t feel my cheeks!” you giggled as you settled in on the bed next to Taron, happy just to warm up a bit. “Or my nose. Or my fingers.”

“Here, let me have a crack at that,” he said, taking your hands between his, still somehow so warm, and rubbing them gently until sensation returned. You stared up at the purple frilly curtains hanging over the squat horizontal windows in the campervan; Taron had been so amused when you’d picked them out because they reminded you of the ones in your childhood bedroom. But he’d obliged you and now here they hung, providing you some privacy from the outside world.

“This was the most perfect idea,” you said, feeling a calmness settle in your soul.

“Yeah?” he asked, propping his head up in his hand and gazing at you sweetly. “I’m quite grateful you decided to run off to the wilderness with me.”

“Civilized wilderness, if you will,” you teased him lightly. “I hear in America that some people go totally off the grid. No electricity, no toilet facilities at all,” you laughed lightly.

“What do they do, poo in a pail? Shit in the kettle?” he asked, feigning outrage.

“Taron!” you squealed with laughter, slapping him in the arm lightly. “I think they just dig holes or something. Apparently they quite enjoy it but… I’m good with still having lights and heat and a shower.”

“You’re so spoiled. And I love it,” he grinned, leaning over to steal a kiss or three from you. You got caught up in the feel of his soft, supple lips moving hungrily against yours, your breaths mingling in the small space. His fingers slowly found purchase under your shirt, brushing against the skin of your stomach, drawing goosebumps across your skin.

You raked your fingers through his hair, drawing him closer to you, feeling that familiar tingle waking up in your core. Safely cocooned away in your campervan, it felt like a world away from the world, and all you needed was the man right in front of you.

You allowed the kisses to deepen, opening your mouth to him, your tongues meeting messily as you hastily pulled at the hem of his jumper. He broke those searing kisses only long enough to allow you to pull the jumper and shirt under it off, tossing both aside. You ran your fingers over the heated skin of his chest, feeling the muscles beneath his skin rippling slightly. You loved that he was the perfect blend of small but built, strong but also compact, muscular but lithe. You had never cared for men so beefy it would feel like you could be broken in half with a simple hug; Taron seemed to exist in the perfect middle, and you could never get enough of admiring him. Though, to be fair, he never gave you much time to just gawk.

He carefully pulled your own jumper and shirt off, revealing that you hadn’t bothered with a bra once you’d changed out of your work clothes. “I came prepared,” you chuckled lightly as he raised that characteristic eyebrow of his, before delving between your breasts, leaving a trail of kisses along the valley of your chest. Tiny moans escaped your lungs at the feeling of his lips traveling fervently over your bare skin.

His fingers traveled along the waistband of your jeans before fumbling with the button. “Fuck,” he said with a giggle, having to take a moment to actually concentrate on what he was doing, pulling them slowly down your legs. The anticipation was killing you.

“Ahhh, the feast awaits!” he said, pushing your knees apart and diving in between them, nuzzling his nose into your clothed core and making you throb harder with need. He made small kitten kisses against your sensitive nub before pushing your panties to the side and sliding his fingers through your wet folds.

“Holy fuck,” you groaned loudly, arching your back. You gripped the sheets as he slipped his fingers into you, pumping them slowly.

“So wet for me, princess,” he said, his voice gravelly. You would never have chosen that nickname for yourself, but he also only ever called you that when you were in the throes of passion. And when he made you feel like  _ that _ , he could call you anything he wanted.

“Please, I need you inside me,” you groaned, not wanting to cum without the feel of him stretching you in that delicious way.

“I will always oblige you, my love,” he said roughly, removing his fingers and making you keen softly at the feeling of emptiness. He peeled your panties off you before quickly removing his own pants. The bed springs squeaked as he clambered over you, lining his hips up with yours, his throbbing erection hot against your thigh.

You anticipated the feel of him sliding into you, but no matter how many times you had sex, it always felt deliciously new every time. “Ohhhh,” you gasped softly as he pushed his way into you, not stopping until he was buried to the hilt. The groan that ripped through his body went straight to your groin, your walls clenching around him and spurring him to pull out and thrust back into you powerfully.

“Shit,” he moaned, a vein in his neck standing out as he began thrusting in and out of you, both of you lost to the feeling, the knot in your core winding tighter and tighter.

“Oh god, so close,” you managed to mumble. “I’m … going to cum,” you gasped, feeling the knot snap inside you, sending you over the edge. Your walls clenched around his engorged cock as the waves of pleasure rushed through you, crashing endlessly upon themselves. All you could do was try to hold on through the crescendo of your body’s climax. Taron’s thrusts grew sloppy as he spilled into you, his chest heaving as his hips snapped against yours until he stilled, spent and absolutely happy.

He peered down at you, sweetly brushing your hair aside, the sheen of sweat on both of your bodies glistening in the campervan’s low lights. He pulled out of you and rolled over on the bed, sighing deeply as he did so. “Absolutely perfect,” he said, to no one in particular though there was no one else around but you.

“What, the camping or the fucking?” you asked cheekily.

“Making love, love,” he giggled lightly, his forehead resting against your shoulder. “I can never get enough of you.”

“Well, there’s more where that came from, but I’ll have myself a pint first, if you don’t mind,” you said as you rolled off the bed and felt around on the floor for your jeans. You found them and pulled them on, as well as your jumper, before going to the fridge and pulling out a beer. You popped the cap off and took a long swig, your back still to Taron, knowing you’d abruptly left him hanging.

He always got vulnerable after you’d had sex, and you weren’t good at being vulnerable. He wanted to talk about his feelings, he wanted to tell you how much he needed you in his life. You were comfortable enough being his girlfriend, of course, but you didn’t need to state it after every sack session to know it was real. Maybe that was being a bit harsh, but his lovesick soliloquies always made you feel on edge, like he wanted more from you than you were willing or able to give.

“Pass me one too?” he asked you, a strange timbre in his voice, as he tried to collect himself again. You popped the cap off a second beer and handed it to him, still sitting on the bed in his glorious nudity. His hair was a total wreck, his eyes much darker than usual, but he looked pensive now, and you knew you were the reason for it.

“I’ve got to take a piss,” you said, grabbing your phone and leaving the campervan, crossing the lawn to the toilet facilities. You barely had any reception out here but still typed a message to your best friend Rosalind. <I’m an absolute idiot, Roz.> You waited for the little circle to finally show the message had been sent and sighed.

<What’d you do this time?>

<Oh you know how I said Taron gets after we... sleep together. I know he’s wanting me to tell him I love him and that I’ll have his babies and we’ll live happily ever after and I just can’t bring myself to do it. I don’t know why, because I love the guy, dearly. But something stops me every time.>

<Afraid of the permanence, perhaps?>

<Maybe> you texted back, looking at yourself in the mirror. The harsh lighting in the bathroom made your face look haunted somehow. You grimaced slightly and turned away from your reflection. <What the hell am I supposed to do?>

<I think you should take the leap. You live with him, you say you love him. Maybe it’s time to really open up. I know you’re scared of being hurt. I know you’re scared that he’ll leave you. But real love takes risk and being vulnerable is worth it. You should really tell him how you feel.> Damnit if Rosalind didn’t make a lot of sense.

<I don’t much like feelings, you know. They’re messy and imperfect and can get you in a whole load of trouble.>

<You also can’t run from them> she pointed out, and I sighed. If any of us was a spiritual guru in a past life, it would definitely have been Rosalind.

You returned to the campervan to find it empty, a pang of nervousness running through you for a second, until you heard Taron’s characteristic chuckle drifting across the open field. You pulled your jacket back on, as well as a pair of gloves, before going to find him.

“Alright, now watch the ball. Keep your eye on it, alright. Here you go,” Taron said, carefully and slowly tossing the ball at a kid wielding a bat. The kid swung wildly but managed to hit the ball, where it bounced across the ground a couple times and rolled to a stop near you.

“Heeey! Good job! That’s how it’s done,” he grinned, clapping his hands cutely. You stooped over and picked the baseball up before tossing it back to Taron. “This is Emmanuel,” he added to you, gesturing to the kid. “The McCormick’s invited us over to their bonfire. You should go say hi,” he replied, nodding his head at the other camper in the area.

You slowly walked over to a couple sitting around a fire along with presumably their daughter. You wished you’d thought to grab your unfinished beer, but it ended up being unnecessary, as these people were incredibly friendly and all too happy to share theirs with you. They introduced themselves as Patrick and Sandra, and daughter Celia and son Emmanuel, whom you’d already met.

“These nights are chilly! You shouldn’t be without one of these!” Pat exclaimed, gesturing to the raging fire pit that was putting out quite a bit of heat.

“Oh, we rented one, just haven’t had a moment to set it up yet,” you smiled ruefully.

“Look at those stars, dear. Nothing like this back home,” Sandra said, gazing up at the deepening night sky, thousands of stars twinkling across the expanse.

“Where’s home?” you asked, taking a swig of the beer.

“Barnstaple, not far from here,” she replied. “You?”

“Oh, London. It’s a busy city, and it’s good to get away from it all once in a while,” you smiled, as Taron and the young boy finally returned, plopping themselves down in the empty camp chairs.

“Can we get the mallows now, mummy?” Celia asked primly.

“Fantastic idea!” Sandra agreed, and her daughter went to retrieve the bag of marshmallows and the roasting sticks. You all had fun roasting marshmallows and getting to know each other a bit, and while the kids excitedly talked about their favorite things to do in town, you and Taron stole a few glances at each other.

Eventually you both felt you’d worn out your welcome, though Pat offered that you both join the family for dinner the next day at the pub, which was only a 20-minute walk away. You gave a non-committal answer before returning to your campervan, full of marshmallows and beer and conflicted feelings.

“We should probably get a proper dinner in us, don’t you think?” Taron said, pulling out storage containers of pre-made food and holding them up. “Indian or Italian?”

“Uhhhh, let’s go with the curry,” you said. “Save the Bolognese for tomorrow.”

“Perfect,” he said, going about reheating the curry and rice in the incredibly compact kitchenette area of the campervan and dividing them between bowls. He turned the small TV on and popped in one of your favorite movies, and you both snuggled together while you ate, enjoying the cozy feel of it all.

“I’d probably be trying to choke down a grass smoothie right about now if I’d gone to that wellness retreat,” you joked.

“That bad, huh?” Taron chuckled slightly.

“I mean, I’m probably being judgmental and all but… Wellness retreat just smacks of superiority.”

“Glad you’re not above roughing it with me,” he commented.

“Of course not. This feels perfect, really,” you said, looking up at him. “I love the campervan. And I love you. And I know I don’t say that nearly enough.”

“You really don’t,” he sighed softly.

“And I’m sorry for that, I really am. I’ve never been good at this, sharing my feelings,” you admitted. “But I don’t mean to shut you out either. So… let’s talk about it.”

“What is there to say that I haven’t already tried to say?” he asked, his fingers running idly over your forearms.

“There can be more to us than just this. There can be a future together, and as scared of it as I am, I’m willing to follow that path with you, if you want. When we’re ready for it. The idea of that kind of dependability on you terrifies me, to be honest.”

“Why?” he asked in a whisper. “Have I ever given you any reason to not trust me? To be scared of a future with me? To keep the walls up?” You shook your head and mouthed the word ‘no’ as he continued. “Every layer of you I pull away, I just want to know more. I need more, of you. And yet there are these times you’re as much a mystery to me as the first day we met, and I wonder if that means I’m not enough for you.”

“No, god, that’s not it at all, T. Just sometimes I don’t have the words for how I feel. I can’t connect my heart and brain and I just sound stupid,” you sighed.

“You never sound stupid to me,” he said, brushing your hair out of your face and shifting slightly so he was facing you. He sweetly cupped your face in his hands before leaning in and kissing you, slowly, gently, tenderly. “Sometimes, words aren’t even needed to speak how you feel,” he whispered against your lips, his light green eyes seeming to look right into your soul. You felt your breath catch in your chest, knowing no one else had ever looked at you this way.

“God, I love you. You...are everything. You always make me feel like a better person than I am.”

“Doubtful,” he said with a sweet smile, as you continued to ramble on.

“I miss you so badly when I have to be alone, but it’s like we never lost that time at all when you come home.”

“I’ll always come back home to you, darling. I adore you too,” he said, wiping at the tears shining on your cheeks.

“You are the poetry of my soul, Taron. And maybe none of this life makes sense but everything makes sense when I’m with you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, in every way we possibly can, and even the next life after that, wherever that finds us,” you finished, knowing it all probably sounded insanely stupid but not caring.

“Did you just propose to me?” he asked, cocking his head slightly with a boyish grin growing across his face.

“Oh my God, I’m just trying to express how I feel about you, about us. I want this and I’ll go shout it into the universe if you want!” you said, hiding your laugh and your blushing cheeks behind your hand. “I don’t want to be the thing holding us back, T. I know this is a rambling mess, but it’s how I feel.”

“I’m so glad you told me,” he said, the string of twinkling lights you’d hung across the campervan’s ceiling reflecting in the deep pools of his eyes. He looked affected by what you had said, truly touched, and even if it had been scary, you felt so much relief finally saying how you had been feeling all along.

He leaned in to kiss you again, something deeper, more meaningful, passing between you. You kissed him back, feeling yourself completely opening up to him, needing more of him than you’d ever demanded before. Because this time, you wanted to feel, everything, not just the delicious, spine-tingling physical bits, but also the way your hearts beat in time together, the way he caressed every curve of your body with such care, the loving gaze in his eyes you’d always shut yourself off from seeing before.

Your kisses heated up, and your bodies were on fire, as you quickly divested yourself of your clothes and crawled back into the bed. But this time, as he joined your bodies together, there was so much more to it than just sex. He filled you up in so many more ways than just physically; he gave his soul to you, he trusted it to you.

This was making love, and as you reached your climaxes together, your moans mingling in the campervan’s cabin, skin pressed deliciously against skin, breaths ragged, you knew you never wanted to go back. This was where home was, this was what it felt like to be totally, utterly loved. It was unlike anything else you’d ever felt before.

As you laid on your stomach on the bed, hugging a pillow and feeling completely spent again, the blankets pulled partly over you, and Taron’s fingers languidly stroking your bare back, you felt completed, whole; excited for what the future could hold for you both. You felt your eyes grow weary with sleep, Taron’s caresses lulling you softly toward slumber. “Love you,” you managed to mumble, feeling him press a gentle kiss against your forehead before settling in beside you.

“Love you too, my beloved,” he said gently.

“I thought your beloved was your campervan,” you teased in a voice thick with sleep.

Taron chuckled at that. “Only cause I have the best times in it with you. The weekends are made for lovers just like us.”

“And so is the future, Taron. So is our future,” you replied sweetly, letting yourself softly sink into sleep, welcoming the delicious dreams to come.


End file.
